Not even chocolate cake

We walked.

Just walked.

No words, lots of grumps and shrugs.

We walked with the dogs. He even manages to grump with them, pulling at the lead.

Maybe a treat would help unlock this conversation.

Coke and chocolate cakes – seems to have worked for years.

In fact we started while he was still in a pram. We sat in the coffee shop for over three hours. Chocolate cake in hand I fed him little peices and and every time said chocolate cake. Then it happen, his first words, “choc-choc-cake”. Brilliant Dad win.

But this time even chocolate cake does not seem to unlock a conversation. I drop in a couple of crafted coaching questions… nothing. No, more than nothing, anger, pain and a silent scream so loud that it hurts.

We walk home, still nothing.

But we have walked it out.

In the house, back hiding in his phone.

Then dinner, a bit lighter.

The evening ends with laughter and a hug. I tuck him in and pray for him, a privilege, given his teenage years.

No resolutions. Maybe another day? But at least we walked it out. At least I did not push him into forced talking.

This parenting thing is tough, but good.

Feet up, rest up.

I am an activist. I would much rather be doing something rather than nothing. If I can be creating or organising then I feel at home. Even in my rest times I would rather be active. Walking, making something in the garage or my ideal, running. Part of the reason I love this sort of resting is that it gives me thinking and praying space.

When I was at collage we would have Wednesday morning lectures on spirituality. They were always followed by silence, hours of it. I would ache and scream. The quieter it was, the more I wanted to get up and shout something. But then one day the lecturer talked about finding rest and stillness in movement. Something clicked. He spoke about how some people needed to move in order to find that inner stillness that allows thoughts and concerns to surface. I was listening, he was describing me. Suddenly sneaking off for a run in the times that I was suppose to be silent and praying had been affirmed and I could finally make sense and find peace.

Almost 20 years on, the creativity and the running have become my go to place for resting. If every I get stuck or have had a stressful day, a few miles on the road and the days trouble are settled.

And yet….

There is another sort of rest that I have also learnt over time to embrace.

Just sitting and doing nothing.

Stopping, setting down.

Sleeping.

In the sun – the best rest.

That is what is needed today. Feet up, rest up.

(and planning a 13 mile run before the of the day…. but for now… sleep.)